Craig Stocks Arts Blog

“Hidden in Plain Sight” has become one of my most popular fine art photos, but it almost never happened. The story behind the photo illustrates the importance of patience, planning, and perseverance.

The story began in October 2012 when I set up a photo shoot of writer Lisa Locascio at a friends farm. The goal was to do an environmental portrait of a writer for my “Playing Peoria” website.

As soon as I walked into the old corn crib I fell in love with the dramatic pattern of light and shadow. We did one of Lisa’s photos inside the corn crib, but I choose to use a different scene on the website. I wanted to make sure the photo was about her and not about my photography.

Soon after that photo shoot, my wife and I hit on idea of using the dramatic lighting pattern inside the corn crib to hide a nude “in plain sight.”  That was the beginning of a year long search for the right combination of clear weather at sunset and a model.

Strike 1: At first, it seemed easy. I found a model, we agreed on a fee, (to be paid after the photo shoot) and set a date and time.  The time came and went but she never showed up. She didn’t answer my phone calls or emails, and I never heard from her again.  Since no money had changed hands, I didn’t lose anything but time, but the time turned out to be a critical factor.

Strike 2: Back to the drawing board and a couple of weeks later I found another model and made arrangements. She was very professional and showed up right on time.  We set up in the corn crib, and just as the light was starting to form its distinct stripes, the sun disappeared. I went outside to check the clouds, and found that the problem was a tall grain silo blocking the sun. The corn crib would be in its shadow the rest of the evening! By then it was into November and getting too cold for comfort.

Obviously I needed to plan better. I used an application called “The Photographer’s Ephemeris” to locate the sunset times and angles on a satellite view of the farm and found that there were only two brief times each year when the setting sun was positioned clear of both the grain silo and the farm house.  My first visit just happened to be at one of the right times in the fall. The next opportunity would be in the spring, but probably still to cold here in Central Illinois. That meant I’d have to wait until the following September.

Success: In September 2013 I was finally able to arrange for a model on a clear, cloudless day and we got the shot I’d envisioned. We tried a number of different poses, both clothed and nude. By far, this was the frame I kept coming back to as my favorite.  It just seemed to have everything right.

Like many photographers, I love playing with light. After all, the word “photography” means “writing with light.”  But light is nothing without shadows. They add depth, dimension and interest to a photo. Shadows are how you know the shape of an object.

This fine art photo is not a Photoshop creation. I was fortunate to be working with an athletic model, so all we needed was a white background and a brightly focused strobe.

Digital photography has created lots of exciting new processes, but I fear one of the pitfalls is that too many of us have moved away from physical prints of our photographs. I am a passionate advocate of making prints.  I even go so far as to display my photos on this blog in a digital frame as a way of reinforcing the idea.

Computers, tablets and smart phones are great devices. I have them and use them. I even keep lots of photos on them. But, I never consider those photos to have any sort of permanence. They’re too easy to loose, and they’re actually hard to share and enjoy.

We still have our album of wedding photos from 38 years ago, and we still get it out and look at them occasionally. The grandkids love to page through the old photo albums and laugh at our 1970’s styles. Visitors to our house look at the photos on the walls, the array of family photos on the buffet. But, in all the years I’ve used computers and digital photography, I’ve never had a child, grandchild, relative or friend ask to page through my iPad or computer or backup disks to look at the pictures I have stored there.  Someday I’ll be gone. A lot may change between now and then, but given today’s technology, I doubt if anyone will see any of my photos that haven’t been printed.

When you make a print, you’re making a commitment to create a physical thing. The print requires an investment, and it has a presence. Its scarceness gives it value. If it gets damaged or lost, it’s gone forever, so we tend to handle it carefully.

Of course, you probably don’t want to print every photo. In fact, you probably shouldn’t print most of your exposure. But, think about the images that you’re especially proud of, or the ones that captured a special moment that you don’t want to forget. Those are the ones that deserve to be turned into something real and tangible.

Someday, someone will be glad you made the effort.

This is another in my series of photos where I use motion to create interesting shapes and patterns. Since both the model and the light are moving during a long exposure, I never really know what the finished image will hold. I love the surprise of finding a few gems buried in the assortment of results.